Oh, I am the last of the giants, my people are gone from the earth.
The last of the great mountain giants, [bad word] all the world at my birth.

Oh, the smallfolk have stolen my forests, they've stolen my rivers and hills...
And they've built a great wall through my valleys, and fished all the fish from my rills.

In stone halls they bum their great fires, in stone halls they forge their sharp spears.
Whilst I walk alone in the mountains, with no [bad [bad word] but tears.

They hunt me with dogs in the daylight, they hunt me with torches by night.
For these men who are small can never stand tall, whilst giants still walk in the light.

Oh, I am the last of the giants, so learn well the words of my song.
For when I am gone the singing will fade, and the silence shall last long and long.